


trinity

by en passant (corinthian)



Category: Fate/stay night & Related Fandoms
Genre: F/M, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-11
Updated: 2014-11-11
Packaged: 2018-02-25 00:26:45
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,119
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2601821
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/corinthian/pseuds/en%20passant
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>pritestking, au</p>
<p>blood, sweat, tears. Kirei's father didn't warn him about men like Gilgamesh. mentions of sex and suicide.</p>
            </blockquote>





	trinity

For all that Kirei's father taught him about the world -- the rights and wrongs, sin and absolution -- he never taught him that there were men to stay away from. Perhaps it was because his father couldn't see to the depths of Kirei's soul or because he didn't notice that the concerned, crinkled frowns that Kirei wore were musings on his own humanity and far below that was a hollowness that no prayer could save him from.

Or, perhaps, his father simply hadn't cared. All living men sin, it's how you plead your case to God that lifts your crimes.

Kirei thinks, thought, will continue to think until it becomes a sick joke, that if God was going to forgive his sins then there was no point in trying to live piously. Briefly, he thought once, that there was no need then to be faithful -- and that had opened a chasm in his chest and it was too great a distance for him to close, completely. And then, every time he went to church, sat in the pew, stood by his father under the sanguine smile of the Holy Mother on the window, he could feel the seams in his ribcage start to strain and pop.

He believed, for a while, that his father could hear them. The slow ache of the void inside of him crawling out from under his skin. That the soft smiles his father gave him were encouragement to keep trying, that his father knew Kirei was fighting and that God would forgive him.

He didn't cheat on his wife.

She knew him far better than he knew himself and she was dying. He thought he could love her, because if anyone deserved love it was her. They had sex. They fucked. She made love to him one winter night when he couldn't find the energy to sit up or move his hands and she didn't care. She worshipped him, straddled his hips and leaned down so her chest was against his. He could feel her heartbeat through his skin and her breasts and between every single one of her breaths.

I love you. She said and pressed the insides of his wrists to her ribs and counted the thrusts.

They had a daughter. They gave her away. His wife, for all she loved him, did not want to be a mother. He didn't want to be a father. She fell ill, she continued to die. He found her more and more beautiful as she wasted away.

It took him an hour to cut her down. He watched her light body hang from the rafters and she was the most beautiful then. He took a picture. He cradled her bare feet in his hands and memorized the way her cold stiff toes felt against his palms. He touched himself, through the front of his dark pants and caressed her ankles with his cheek.

He loved her, only after she was finally dead.

After, there was a funeral, there were soft regrets from other people. He didn't care. He lived on.

They crossed paths by accident. A friend of his father's had a wedding and Kirei went, was the presiding priest. He hated weddings. After the ceremony he sat in the back, nursed a glass of champagne (barely, just barely wetting his lips with it) and wondered when it would be appropriate to leave.

And then there was him. Gaudy in too much jewelry and the ugliest snakeskin pants. Gaudy, because he danced with the newly married wife and kissed her and then he danced with the husband and let his hand dangle down across the small of the husband's back and then fingers trailed down to the crevice between his ass cheeks.

Kirei watched, gritted his teeth, how inappropriate. But he stayed for the entire reception and only started to head out to his car after the gaudy stranger left.

And then there he was, again. He was against Kirei's car, fur trimmed jacket sloping off of one shoulder, mouth curved up in a smile that was far too cruel to be honest.

"Enjoy yourself?" He asked.

Kirei tightened the grip on his phone, and his keys. They didn't go home together, but he -- Gilgamesh -- fucked him over the back of the trunk. He said he'd always wanted to do a priest and he was sure Kirei wouldn't mind. Kirei didn't, really, but there was nothing attractive about the encounter at all until after Gilgamesh came messily across the back of his thighs and laughed low and dangerous and said: "The wife, did you know, she's cheating on him." Kirei smiled into the darkness of his car.

They didn't exchange numbers.

They met again, at the divorce. Gilgamesh introduced himself as the ex-husband's lover. They had a quick fuck in the court bathroom. Kirei's knees braced above the toilet and he focused on a dark stain on the wall -- blood, or shit or old graffiti. Gilgamesh leaned against his back, fingers dug hard enough against his jacket that he could imagine what they felt like against his skin. Kirei was quiet, but Gilgamesh was a talker. He talked about how the husband was useless, stupid, hopeful, enjoyed pretty things but had no self-control. How the husband's cousin was a cruel man that beat his children. He talked about a judge he'd slept with, a senator, a mayor's wife. The sordid details of all of those lives, the betrayal and violence. Gilgamesh wrapped a hand around Kirei's through and the fur of his stupid jacket brushed against his cheek and Kirei thought about his dead wife's cold ankle against his face and he came all over the toilet's plumbing.

They did exchange numbers then, because Gilgamesh wanted to fuck in a church and Kirei didn't see any reason to deny him.

They did fuck in the church. On the pews. In the confessional. They fucked in the bed that Kirei used to share with his wife and under the rafter where she hung herself. And then one day after they fucked Gilgamesh scrolled through his phone and started laughing.

"Do you think about her when I bend you over?" He asked.

The answer was yes, but Kirei said: "Of course not."

"You loved her." Gilgamesh accused, pleased.

"Yes, I did."

"Let's go again."

But it was different, then. Gilgamesh stopped talking about other people. He talked about Kirei's wife, taking guesses about her. He talked about Kirei and Kirei's scars and Kirei's father. When Gilgamesh fucked him, face to face, leaning over him and bit his neck and then murmured into his skin -- Gilgamesh gripped both sides of the chasm in Kirei's chest and ripped it open.


End file.
